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saying anything to him, and after pocketing the treasure would decamp and leave him in the lurch. He did not dare to voice his suspicions, for he knew Bender’s character and heavy hand. Each day as he worked at the window-sill, cleaning the paint with an old jagged razor, he grew more and more dejected. Each day he wondered whether Bender would come back, or whether he, a former marshal of nobility, would have to die of starvation in Moscow. But each morning Bender came back, although he did not bring any good news. His energy and cheer fulness were inexhaustible, and he never lost heart. One day Hippolyte heard some one hurrying along the corridor and knocking against the iron safe ; then the door was flung open. The great schemer, drenched to the skin, was standing on the threshold. His cheeks were glowing like two red apples. He was breathing heavily. ‘ Hippolyte Matveyevich ! ’ he shouted, ‘ listen ! Listen ! Hippolyte Matveyevich ! ’ Hippolyte was surprised. Bender rarely called him by his name and patronymic. Then he suddenly realized . . . ‘ You’ve found it! ’ he gasped. ‘ Yes ! I’ve found it! ’ ‘ Don’t shout ! Every one can hear us ! ’ ‘ Yes, that’s true ! ’ said Bender breathlessly. ‘ It’s found ! It’s found ! I can show it to you now, if you like. It’s in the Railway Workers’ Club. . . . It’s a new club. . . . Opened yesterday. . . . How did I find it ? It was most terribly difficult. A marvellous plan, brilliantly executed ! It was wonderful! ’ Without waiting for Hippolyte to pull on his coat. Bender ran out into the corridor and Hippolyte joined him on the stairs. Both men threw excited questions at each other. Soon they were racing down the streets towards Kalanchev Square. They did not even think of getting into a tram ; they were too excited. 18
